A Part of Me
by PenofRed
Summary: They say your past doesn't define you. They say your mistakes and the painful memories will fade. They say the past has no control over you. I say that anyone who believes that has no idea how haunting the past can be. Oneshot.


**AN: This is essentially my take on Robin's relationship with Slade and the whole apprentice/dust incidents. I admit, it may be a teeny tiny bit angst. Okay, it's very angsty. Anyways you all are probably smart people so you've probably figured out by now that I in no way own anything but my story.**

Up here, you can see everything from the waves that crash into the jagged rocks surrounding the tower, to the golden pinpricks of light that dot the city. The sea glitters like shards of broken glass under the watchful gaze of the full moon as a few lone birds swoop by, nothing more than dark silhouettes against the dusky blue sky. The buildings of my city stand tall, proud, and silent on the distant coastline, waiting for the next day to start so it can once more come alive with the hustle and bustle of life. Everything's completely silent, save for the sound of the crashing waves and my rapid, shaky breaths.

I'd be lying if I said this was an unusual occurrence. More and more often now, I'll find myself standing atop the tower at the dead of night with nothing but the gulls to keep me company. Up here it's peaceful, calm, and quiet. I can't say the same about my dreams. Every night, I go to sleep only to panic and wake up a few hours later in a cold sweat, gasping for breath; and every night, I climb to the top of the tower and onto the rooftop in an attempt to calm my frazzled mind.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Those words go around and around on the well worn path in my head. They are my lifeboat in this endless ocean of fear, the only thing keeping me from drowning. With it, I'm able to get to shore, to escape the dark waves of terror, to leave my nightmares behind, and most importantly, to get him… him…

No. I mustn't think about him. He's the root of my troubles, the reason why I can't sleep. Night after night , he's there, haunting my dreams, hiding in the shadows. Every creak and swish, crack and groan, makes my imagination run wild. He has turned me back into a five year old, scared of ghosts hiding in the closet and imaginary monsters creeping down the halls. I'm the boy wonder. I'm supposed to have nerves of steel, be brave to a fault; but now I jump at shadows, certain that there's something out there beyond the safety of my bed, ready to pounce on me and drag me to hell. The thing is, the monsters I fear aren't from fairy tales and ghost stories. They're monsters born from real life, and they all share one name and face.

I sigh, running a hand through my dark hair. It's wet with sweat. This is ridiculous. Why is it possible that one man can cause so much fear, so much strife? Why is it possible that one man can completely and utterly consume my every thought? Why is it possible for me to be so scared?

Just the mere thought of him being near me, touching me, or even just looking at me is enough to send a shiver up my spine. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, certain that I'll see that malicious glint in the shadows, that one eye that seems capable of reading me like a book.

That recent incident with the dust certainly didn't do anything to lessen my fears.

There was one thing I didn't tell my teammates after the dust episode. It wasn't that I didn't trust them. I just couldn't stand the thought of them knowing. I didn't want to see the horror in their gazes or the pity that was sure to follow. I didn't want them to know that I was weak.

The thing was, the dust in the mask wasn't designed to make me see Slade. I _t was designed to make me see the thing that I feared the most_.

I recognized the dust. Although not exactly the same, the dust shared many similar components to the fear gas Scarecrow is infamous for. I was born and raised in Gotham. I know what fear gas, or dust for that matter, looks like.

I couldn't let my teammates know. I had to lead by example. If they knew that I was terrified out of my wits, unable to face one of our greatest and longstanding foes without feeling a rush of terror, who knows what could have happened? They could have lost faith in me or crumbled the next time we had to face him. They would be constantly worrying about me when they should be worrying about their own safety and the wellbeing of the city. I'm the leader. I couldn't let that happen.

Plus, my teammates aren't stupid. If they were to find out about the true nature of the dust, they would begin to ask questions. After all, why would I be scared of someone without a reason? I've never properly discussed what happened during my apprenticeship with Slade, and I've never had any desire to do so. I've made a few offhand comments, but nothing to indicate the true nature of it all. They know nothing about all the crimes I had to commit, the people I had to kill, or the rigorous training _and the pain… oh god, the excruciating pain...and him standing over me… and more and more pain… and him...standing there laughing…. the constant fear...and the pain… so much pain…._

My body is in full blown panic mode. My chest is heaving and I'm gasping for breath for the second time tonight. I stumble backwards before my legs give out and I fall to my knees, my head in my hands as I try to block out the rest of the world. Waves of fear roll through me as the memories I have tried so hard to repress come rushing back full force, sending me back out into my ocean of fear.

The sound of the crashing waves fall on deaf ears, for the screaming and shouting that rings inside my head is too loud. My surroundings fade and are replaced with brief snapshots. _The squeaking and churning of the gears… the chair… the monitors… pool of blood… my blood...the chains... the cell...the deaths...the whip...mask...the ...laughter...betrayal...the nanobots...his grip...the anger...rage...powerless...weak..._

Something is squawking. It's a rather shrill sound and impossible to ignore. I focus on the squawking and only the squawking. Slowly, my vision returns and my hearing becomes stronger. The memories start to recede and retreat to the dark corner of my subconscious.

I blink to clear my blurry vision. There is a seagull standing a few feet in front of me making a racket. It's looking at me curiously, its head cocked to the side as if it is trying to figure out what's wrong. Normally, I don't care much for seagulls, but this gull had shown up in the nick of time, saving me from my memories. I guess not all heroes wear capes.

I offer it a smile. It responds by squawking.

"Thanks," I say, "you really saved me back there." The bird squawks again before taking off.

I stand alone on the rooftop. The waves crash against the rocks, the sea glitters under the moon, and the city still remains silent. I'm still just as scared as I was when I first came up here. I still fear Slade, and I doubt I ever will stop fearing him. My brief panic attack certainly proved that.

I'll have to find a way to deal. I can't just break down like that while I'm on the job. The results could be disastrous. But, I don't know how to deal with this. I don't know how to deal with the memories and I don't know who to turn to.

The moon is beginning to set and I take that as my cue to go back down into the tower. I need to be there when my teammates wake up. They have to know that I'm always there for them, as they always are for me. But this is the one thing they can't help me with. They wouldn't even know where to start. These memories, they've been a part of me for so long. I wouldn't recognize who I am without them. They wouldn't even recognize the real me. They see the version of me I want them to see: the happy fearless leader who's full of hope and ready to take on any challenge, no matter how impossible it seems.

I leave the rooftop just as the morning sun begins to crawl its way over the horizon line. The sky is a peachy pink laced with shots of vibrant orange and baby blue. I walk down the stairs back to the main rooms not with thoughts of the new sunrise, but with thoughts of the dark night.

 **AN: Welp, so hope you enjoyed that. I haven't really decided whether I should leave it a one shot or if I should add to it. Anyways thanks for reading and if you have any time, please comment or review. I'm open to constructive criticism or anything like that. Cheers :D**


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